


Thrill Me, Chill Me, Fulfill Me

by hummingjill



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Merlin, Bisexual Arthur, Depression, F/F, F/M, Geek Arthur, How Do I Tag, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sex, Love, M/M, POV Multiple, Relationship(s), Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4733429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummingjill/pseuds/hummingjill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Arthur knew the magic that bartenders usually protruded. Somehow standing behind that counter made them always seem inhumanly attractive, the way they blindly grabbed colourful bottles, the way their arms moved, when they shook the mixer, the way they held the fate of your evening in their hands. But this one... well this one really was inhumanly attractive. In the sense that he looked like some faerie out of an idiotic fantasy movie."</p>
<p>Or: In which Arthur is a closeted nerd, Merlin's fortune cats obsession has reached an unhealthy level, everyone else cares way too much about their flirting mojo and "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" is probably referenced way too often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shitty Pink People

**Author's Note:**

> I'll admit I'm extremely nervous posting this, since it's been years since I wrote fanfiction and I'm probably going to do something wrong and it'll end up with an explosion somewhere...
> 
> Anyways, the idea for this story started one night while I was sitting in a bar with my wonderful friend (and beta) [Rainb0wprincess](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rainb0wprincess), but it somehow developed into something much bigger and I'm really excited about it!
> 
> Thank you so much for the help, Luisa!
> 
> I'm open to suggestions and constructive criticism (and of course comments in general wink wink), hope you enjoy!

It was one of those freakishly long days that just seemed to stretch forever and ever, like a chewing gum sticking to the sole of your shoe. Arthur didn't even know how he had gotten through it without punching an intern or throwing his computer screen out of the window. Probably all that meditation crap Morgana always dragged him to.

But it was Saturday, which meant that tomorrow would be Sunday and the day he could sleep as long as he wanted to. Also with whomever he wanted to, but that was not the point. Still, it was Saturday and Arthur was sitting in some shitty pink bar, surrounded by shitty pink people, most of which were Morgana's shitty pink friends. Honestly, you could think that a woman who as a rule only wore black could choose a somewhat better fitting location to celebrate her birthday. Or as Arthur liked to call it: Doomsday.

It wasn't so much that he hated the day that Morgana gloriously entered this world, he only knew from experience that this day always ended in complete disaster and some knocked out teeth.

Five years ago, for example, he had almost lost an eye because of a violent eyeliner attack from Morgause. Someone had commented on her smudged make-up and the only true way to settle such an insulting accusation was, of course, to start a huge barfight, launch deadly cosmetic missiles in every direction and rip out a couple handfuls of hair from innocent bystanders.

Three years ago, he had almost landed in jail after Morgana had somehow started an illegal underground cockfight in a drunken haze, collected a few hundred pounds from bets and left before anyone could notice that there were in fact no cocks and no fight. She had also called PETA, the police and her yogi right away, because, in her opinion, people who could enjoy hypothetical cockfights were not one bit better than people who enjoyed actual cockfights.

Last year... well they didn't talk about last year.

Arthur was counting the minutes until he could politely excuse himself from the frilly, babbling company he was in. He could go to some over-expensive and dimly lit night club and find some barely-clad person to take home. Or he could call Gwen to come and cheer him up. Just someone that would somehow save this fucking horrible day.

Just as he was staring into his third pint of beer, the only non-pink drink in a three-kilometre radius, and contemplating if he could manage to drown himself in one of the pink and glittering urinals, Elena leaned over the table towards him. If Arthur hadn't been the gentleman he was he would've stared at her pushed up cleavage. But he was. A gentleman, that is.

"The last time I saw you so miserable, was when you wrapped your father's Jaguar tightly around a tree.", she said with a wide smile, her blonde hair flowing in waves around her face.

He grunted very gentleman-ly.

"What's wrong? Did one of your floozies ditch you?" Funny.

"Oh, shut it. It's just so...", Arthur gestured around him. "Pink."

From across the table he heard Morgana make a high-pitched laugh at that. She really had the hearing of a bloody hawk.

"But Artie, I was so sure you'd like it!", she said with a faked pout. "I thought we could try something different after last year..." Her eyes were twinkling dangerously now and Arthur quickly gulped down his remaining beer.

"Well, you were sure I'd like Gossip Girl too, but then even you can make mistakes sometimes.", he answered with a scowl.

Morgana gave another shrill laugh and went back to her surely mind-blowing conversation with the male underwear model to her right.

Even Elena seemed bored by his mood by now, so Arthur spent his time playing with a napkin. It was pink with even pinker text printed on it. One of those incredibly cheesy things. He read:

My name is: __________________

I'd like to meet you:

[ ] to drink a cocktail. [ ] when i'm sober again.  
[ ] at the bar in 10 minutes. [ ] in front of the bathroom in 10 minutes.  
[ ] ______________________________________________

He groaned inwardly. Over the years he had become somewhat of the king of pick-ups and that was definitely one of the lamest things he'd ever seen.

Bored again he tried to find a waiter to bring him another pint, though, of course, they had vanished off the face of the earth at that moment. He glanced at the bar, pondering if the beer was worth the trip. And then he saw him and the beer was completely forgotten.

Arthur knew the magic that bartenders usually protruded. Somehow standing behind that counter made them always seem inhumanly attractive, the way they blindly grabbed colourful bottles, the way their arms moved, when they shook the mixer, the way they held the fate of your evening in their hands. But this one... well this one really was inhumanly attractive. In the sense that he looked like some faerie out of an idiotic fantasy movie.

His ears were disproportionally large, his cheekbones sharper than the entirety of Morgause's knife collection, his blue eyes piercing through the pink fog all around him. His black hair stood out into every direction, making him look just a tiny bit mad. It seemed like he had at least three pairs of arms, mixing and cutting and handing out one cocktail after another.

Arthur noticed that somehow his legs had turned into a useless mass of jelly and that if he opened his mouth even a millimetre wider he would drool all over his trousers.  
What was wrong with him?

He didn't get nervous and he certainly didn't get the feeling in his stomach that twelve-year old girls described as butterflies. Also with jelly-legs walking over there was completely out of the question. Why was he even trying to get to the bar again? Oh, right. Beer.

Those cheekbones, though.

Focus, Arthur, you're an adult male, you can do everything you set your mind to. Even walking through a pink bar with jelly-legs to go and get to your one true one-night stand with the mad mixology skills.

Arthur mumbled something sounding a lot like: "Gottagomyprinceisinanothercastle." in the vague direction of Morgana and her friends and set out for an epic journey to the bar, consisting of four movie adaptions (soundtrack by Enya), various action figures and only two - okay maybe three - jelly-leg attributed stumblings. Finally, after he had made sure that his breath wasn't completely smelling of three pints of beer and a rushedly gulped down burrito, he sat down on one of the pink, fluffy bar chairs. The blue-eyed barman was currently mixing a bright orange glowing drink, by making moves Arthur usually associated with rain dancing. Or maybe it was the Macarena. Arthur always got those two confused. The more Arthur watched the barman, the more details seemed to jump out at him. The way his long, elegant fingers grasped for a vodka bottle, or how his eyes seemed to change colour from blue to almost gold in an instant. How the quiet smile never quite left his lips or how his entire body seemed to flirt with every living being he came in contact with.

Arthur definitely had never spent entire nights playing fantasy RPG's with Leon and he definitely didn't own the entire Lord of the Rings film franchise in the regular, extended and special collector's editions, so Arthur definitely didn't associate the barman with a fucking ELF, but godammit, he WAS A FUCKING ELF. Okay, calm down, Arthur, be cool.

He was just about to signal Legola- the barman, when something with long brown hair popped into his vision.

"What can I get for you, then?", the woman asked with a toothy smile.

Arthur was suddenly pulled back into the real world, a world where the chance for truly good pick-up lines was often foiled by over-eager co-workers.

"Uh, yeah, umm, beer...", he mumbled, trying to glance over the woman's head. She seemed a bit bewildered, but followed his gaze anyway until her eyes landed on her colleague. With a smirk she turned back around, reached over the bar and patted Arthur on the shoulder.

"I know, buddy. Trust me, I know.", then giggling she hurried to the other end of the counter and poured beer into an empty glass. She placed it on one of the obnoxious napkins and said: "That's on me."

With a wink she went on to the next customer, leaving Arthur sitting there with his mouth agape and his dignity in shreds. Grumbling he picked up his beer and his napkin and went back to Morgana's table.

"Oh, Arthur, Arthur, good that you're back!", Elena shouted as soon as she saw him approaching. "We're trying to decide whether to go to a strip club or go see the Rocky Horror picture show later. Also Mordred promised to get the next round-"

"Did not.", Mordred chimed in.

"-so chug that down, 'cause we're getting waSTUUHD!" At the last part of her little speech, Elena decided to jump up from her seat and fist-bump no one in particular, knocking over a couple of pink cocktails and even the underwear-model sitting next to Morgana.

After wanting to forget his awkward encounter at the bar, Arthur didn't think twice about that and, while everyone around the table were throwing napkins on alcohol-puddles, he gulped down his beer. Which was, by the way, the last beer he counted that evening.

* * *

In the end, no one was really sure whose idea it was. Arthur claimed it was Morgana's, who insisted it definitely was Elena's, who strongly pointed out, that in fact she was trying to make out with Kurt, the male underwear-model, so it must've been Arthur's idea, because everyone else at the table just didn't really give a flying fuck about the whole situation. In any case, two hours later, Arthur was properly smashed and hadn't looked away once from the bar - well, okay he looked away a couple times to tell Morgana to shut up, because she was trying to converse with him. The elf/human/whatever-he-was didn't seem to get tired at all, still with that smile on his lips and those weird mixing techniques. It was strangely mesmerizing and calming to watch him, Arthur noticed. He also noticed that Morgana had given him an Oscar (okay it was a badly formed origami crane out of a partly wet napkin) for being the creepiest of them all this evening. But that was much less mesmerizing and calming, so he ignored that.  
He managed to float back into his zen-stalking mood, when suddenly something was shoved into his face, accompanied by lots of giggling and whistling.  
It was one of the napkins... what else? They seemed to follow him around wherever he went tonight. Somebody, though, had filled it out.

My name is: _King Arthur_

I'd like to meet you:

[ ] to drink a cocktail. [ ] when i'm sober again.  
[x] at the bar in 10 minutes. [ ] in front of the bathroom in 10 minutes.  
[x] _cause i'm looking for my queen, and you're pretty_

"Very funny.", Arthur grunted. And looked up into twelve pairs of excited eyes. Slowly he started shaking his head. "No. No way."

"Yes way. It's my birthday and you're gonna get laid.", Morgana decided, snatched the napkin-of-death from Arthur's hands and sent Kurt, the male underwear-model, away with it, all before Arthur even realized what was happening. With growing despair he watched as Kurt, the male underwear-model, approached the brown-haired woman, gesticulating with the napkin in Legolas' direction - and Arthur took off.

He fought his way through to the door, stepping on various feet and knocking over chairs, all the while mumbling not very nice words. It was only outside, that he noticed he had forgotten his coat and scarf. It was a freezing mid-January, and though the cold helped him clear his head, he was soon shaking. Not wanting to go back, but not having any money on him, he had no choice but to wait for Morgana in the brightly lit street.

When he was pretty sure his boots were frozen to the ground, the door opened, letting out a rush of warm air and a rush of loud chattering shitty pink people... Morgana and her friends.

"Let's go see a man in a golden speedo, Artie!", she shouted, throwing his coat in the air. Arthur caught it at the last second before it collided with the brown snow-dirt mush on the ground and put it on, soaking in the warmth. By now Elena had started singing a truly beautiful rendition of "I'ts raining men (in golden speedos)" by the Weather Girls and the entire flock set into a random direction, singing and laughing and jumping excitedly up and down.

Arthur was left behind, standing alone next to the pink bar. He still didn't know whether they were going to a strip club or to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show. "Men in golden speedos" just wasn't a very clear description. Oh well, both would probably end in disaster.

Wrapping his scarf around his neck he slowly set after the shitty pink people.


	2. Pizza A La Cat Hair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, duckies!
> 
> I feel like I have to warn for mentions of depression in this one, in case this is triggering to you.
> 
> Again, my thanks to my wonderful beta [Rainb0wprincess](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rainb0wprincess) (who btw is such an amazing writer, you should definitely check her out!)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy!

"I am so exhausted, that when I fall asleep not even a prince will be able to kiss me awake.", Freya sighed.

"I am so exhausted, that I fell asleep three times, while you were talking right now.", Merlin replied.

They were sitting on the floor behind the counter having just ushered the last customers out.

"Well, I am so exhausted, you could offer me a million pounds and I still wouldn't stand up.", Freya said, tilting her head back to bump against some empty bottles.

"What if I offered you pizza?", Merlin looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, pizza... yes, I'd probably stand up.", she pondered. "You lost the game though, I win."

Merlin laughed, stood up (against his muscles' loud protest) and offered Freya a hand. "Let's finish cleaning up and I promise there will be a freshly delivered pizza once we get home."

Freya let out a frustrated "Argh", but took his hand and got to her feet.

"You know, Merl, you were especially oblivious today.", she said some time later, while they were stacking the last of the chairs on the table so the cleaning lady could come in the morning and wash the floor.

"What do you mean?", Merlin asked distractedly. He could barely keep his eyes open, and only the thought of pizza and his cat still kept him standing upright.

"Like you know that King Arthur napkin?"

"Oh, yes, that was hilarious.", he rolled his eyes. "Probably Gwaine again."

"Nuh-uh, definitely not Gwaine, though I'm not exactly sure who it was actually from.", Freya set down the last chair and started getting out of her pink apron. "I mean, the guy who delivered it was kinda hot, in the I basically live in the tanning salon and only eat the holes in the cheese, kinda way."

"Okay?", Merlin said with a confused look. "So why don't you think it was him?" He shuffled out of his equally pink apron, collected Freya's of the floor and went to put them in the break room.

When he returned with their coats Freya threw her hands dramatically in the air and said: "You honestly want me to believe that you didn't notice that blonde guy who was staring at you the _entire_ night?"

"What blonde guy? The cheese guy?", Merlin put on the thickest scarf he owned - it was freezing outside, also his mother had knitted it for him - and started to turn off all the lights.

"Not the cheese guy, how can you be so good at flirting but so bad at flirting with someone actually interested in you?", Freya seemed to be incredibly upset about Merlin's lack of flirt-mojo, much more upset than Merlin was.

"You know I'm not really looking for someo-", he started.

"Yeah, yeah, because Gwaine will someday realise how utterly perfect you guys are as more than the occasional friends plus, and yadda yadda yadda. I don't even know why I still care, it just makes me so angry, where's my pizza?", Freya stormed out of the bar, leaving Merlin behind, looking like a kicked puppy. He hurried after her, locking the door behind him.

"Frey, it's really not that important, I'm quite happy on my own you know? It's possible to be single and happy?", he was running after her trying to keep up. She was a bit shorter than him, but the snow and the narrow sidewalk made it hard to catch up. Luckily she stopped and turned around at that.

"God, you're right, i'm sorry!", she linked arms with him and they continued on, struggling to walk side-by-side on the sidewalk. "It's just... whenever I think about how happy I am with Viv, and how I want the same for you. And we could go on double-dates and get group discounts and-"

"You honestly want me to get a boyfriend for _group discounts_ , Frey?", Merlin looked at her amusedly. She shrugged, but looked too guilty, for it to be a joke. Merlin started laughing. "You know, I'd rather get my life in order first, and maybe then I'll think of adding a _group discount_ to my growing list of people I have to buy pizza for."

"Fair enough.", she said and started grinning.

Their bus came around the corner and they had to run to the station to catch it. Inside and gasping for breath, Merlin dialed the number of their favourite pizza delivery, ordering probably too much pizza. But then again, there was never too much pizza.

* * *

"There is definitely too much pizza here.", Merlin heard Will shout from the kitchen. "Also that damned cat, has rolled in most of it."

There was an angry hiss and a loud "Ouch". And then heavy steps were coming towards Merlin's bedroom door. He pulled his pillow over his head just as Will opened the door with a loud bang and screamed: "If you don't get that spawn of the devil under control, I swear I will feed it to my goldfish, and I know goldfish basically eat their own poop, but I _will_ make it eat that cat, if it's the last thing that I do."

Merlin grunted and crawled deeper under his blanket.

"Oh, you're not ignoring me, young sir, I demand a kitchen I can actually get into and that is not warded by a fucking dragon!"

Merlin let out a noise in protest, as Will grabbed the blanket and pulled it away. When he opened his eyes he was staring into a red face, that had scratch marks on one cheek and incredibly disheveled hair.

"Will, breathe.", Merlin said calmly. "You know what the doctor told you: 'No wreckage before breakfast'."

"If by doctor your mean hungover Lancelot, then yes. However, that isn't even a perfect rhyme, and I don't adhere to that kind of poetry!", Will started pulling Merlin's left arm.

"You know Freya and I went to sleep about three hours ago and you probably woke her, too.", Merlin pointed out and was rewarded with Will's red face suddenly paling.

"Was... Was I really that loud?", he whispered.

" _Was I really that loud?_ ", came a rough voice from the doorframe. " _Was I REALLY THAT LOUD_?"

Freya was standing, clad in an old t-shirt and sweat pants, her hair sticking out in all directions and her make-up from last night smudged all over her face. She had a scary glint in her eyes and Merlin couldn't jump out of bed fast enough and run to the kitchen. He heard his door slam shut behind him followed by angry shouting and something hitting the floor. He hoped it wasn't his fortune cat collection.

He turned his attention away from the chaos in his room and to the chaos in the kitchen. Pizza cartons were strewn all over, with slices looking out here and there. One slice had even made it on top of the fridge, which was probably Kilgharrah's fault.

"Kili, where are you, kittie? Come here, you little fuzz-fuzz!", Merlin looked under the table and behind the washing machine, Kilgharrah's favourite hiding place. An adorable hiss came from the sink, where the cat had made its little nest. His usually white fur was spattered with orange and one pepperoni was hanging from his left ear.

"Oh, fluffball, have you made a mess? Did you make uncle Will mad?", Merlin said, reaching to pick Kilgharrah up. "Do we have to clean you up again?"

"Don't talk to that thing as if it didn't do this on purpose!", came Will's voice from the doorway. "It hates me and wants to make my life hell."

"I think you're confusing Kili with me.", Freya snapped, stomping into the kitchen and heading straight towards the cold pot of coffee. "Don't talk to me until I've finished all of this."

"I have a date today.", Will said a few minutes later. They were sitting around the messy kitchen table, eating breakfast - which was cold pizza with a tiny bit of cat hair.

"Mmpf.", Freya grumbled.

"With whom?", Merlin asked.

"I don't think you know her, to be honest. We met a couple of nights ago at a boxing class. You know she's the one who gave me that black eye?" Will pointed to his left eye that had just started turning a beautiful shade of yellow. "Anyway, she's studying design or something like that."

"She sounds... interesting?", Merlin grinned. "Have fun!"

"You know Merlin could've easily had a date today, too.", Freya jumped in. It was the first full, intelligible sentence since she had walked into the kitchen.

"Freya, come one.", Merlin began picking white hairs from the next piece of pizza. "We talked about this."

"Just, saying...", she shrugged.

"Oh no, now I want to know everything.", Will said excitedly.

Luckily for Merlin, the doorbell rang at that exact moment, and before he could even set down his pizza, Freya shrieked, sprang up and ran to the door.

"Vivian?", Will asked him with a sigh.

"Vivian.", Merlin answered him with an even bigger sigh.

Now, it wasn't that Merlin didn't like Vivian. It wasn't that her constant nagging about the cheap furniture and the state of Merlin's hair annoyed him. It wasn't a problem that when Freya was with her she turned into Vivian's personal heart-eyed serving girl. No, Merlin didn't have a problem at all with Freya's bloodsucking girlfriend.

Will slowly stood up and tip-toed back to his room, while Merlin suddenly had the urgent need to get Kili clean again.

He was just trying to put his cat into the bathtub for the seventh time when he heard Viv's shrill voice from the hallway.

"Freya, darling, when will you get rid of this _awful_ lampshade? And why are these weird waving cats always absolutely everywhere? Don't they drive you insane?"

Kilgharrah tried to get out of the tub by climbing up the curtain, but that only led to him getting his claws stuck. He bit into Merlin's finger as he tried to wrangle him free.

"Oh fuck, Kili!", Merlin shouted and regretted it immediately.

"Oh hi, Merlin, love!", said Vivian from the doorway. "I see you're finally trying to get that filthy cat of yours to smell somewhat nice?"

"Hi, Viv.", Merlin grumbled in response. "Where's Freya?" _So that she can endure your lovely presence?_

"She's getting dressed, we're going out for a little walk. So how have you been? Still not studying?"

"No, Viv, still not studying.", he threw her a look that definitely meant "leave me alone or i'll set your hair on fire".

"Well, that's a pity. You know I could probably still get you an internship at my father's law firm?"

"You know, Viv that's really nice of you, but I'm just gonna get back to washing my filthy cat now, okay?", Merlin turned his back to her and reached for Kili, who was hissing and clawing at the bathroom tiles.

He let out a breath when he heard her say "Whatever you say." and walk out the bathroom.

It wasn't enough that all of his conversations with his mother were always only circling around that topic, everyone else also had to comment on Merlin's life choices.

_They only mean well. They don't know the whole story._

* * *

 

The whole story. Oh, well. It wasn't a very long story, you could basically sum it up in a few sentences, but it wasn't a story Merlin liked to tell.

It was a story of how after barely having graduated from high school, he was diagnosed with severe depression. How he had spent years running from one therapist to another, switching medication almost every two weeks. How he had felt empty, how everything had been meaningless, how three years of his life were somehow taken from him.

It's not really a story you told people, while getting to know them and talking about the wheather.

It was much better now, though. He only had to go to his therapist every two weeks. Freya and Will had pulled him out of their tiny home-town and decided to move to the big city together. He still didn't really have anything he wanted to do with his life, but he could breathe again. Things were looking up. A bit.

* * *

 

While Will was getting ready for his lazer-tag-date with the boxing designer and Freya and her gal-pal were probably having an all too passionate make-out session on some poor park bench, Merlin was sitting in his room, full of waving cats - and one very wet and definitely not waving cat - and thinking. He knew this kind of thinking. It was that kind of dark vortex thinking, where you started with a simple thought and suddenly you were lying on the floor clutching your cat to your chest and trying to keep yourself together.

"Okay, Merlin, snap out of it.", he mumbled. "You can't get like this everytime someone asks you what it is you're doing with your life."

He had to do something to stop it. Slowly he reached for his phone, flicking through the names in his contact list until he reached Gwaine.

Some beeps later he heard the familiar voice.

"Hey, Merl, what's up?", Gwaine sounded so relaxed and calm, Merlin almost started to cry.

"You wanna get some ice cream or something?", he asked.

"In January?", Gwaine sounded a bit skeptic, but not entirely aversed.

"Mmhm."

"Okay, let's get some ice cream, kiddo.", Gwaine laughed and if Merlin still started to cry, no one was there to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> And, of course, comments are muchly appreciated :D  
> See you soon!


	3. The Wise Man With The Butterflies In His Tummy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my amazing beta [rainb0wprincess](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rainb0wprincess), whose birthday was yesterday so you could go and have a look at her stories as a present, yes? :D
> 
> Also, here are a few things you may need to know before reading this chapter:
> 
> The Rocky Horror Picture Show has this HUGE cult following. There are lots of cinemas who still show it and people come dressed as the characters and act out scenes together with the movie and throw things around (like toilet paper, rice or toast...) It's awesome 
> 
> And yeah, I hope I can get the next chapter out as quickly as the first three, but I feel a writer's block coming... Let's be optimistic though!
> 
> Thank you so so much for all the support! Comments and kudos are very appreciated :D Hope you enjoy!!

Arthur awoke when a foot collided with his jaw and he suddenly found himself falling unceremoniously to the floor. Dumbfounded, he continued to lie there for a while, with half of his face smashed into the carpet and the unwelcome cold air creeping up his legs. Vaguely he noticed that he had fallen from a shiny, black sofa and that the evil foot belonged to a drooling Mordred.

While Arthur was laying on the ground, he thought it to be a good idea to re-evaluate his life choices that led up to this point in his existence. Namely, the disastrous drunk mess he had been yesterday, how he still had pieces of toilet paper stuck in his hair (because of course, if Morgana is going to watch The Rocky Horror Picture Show, she is going to watch it properly) and why he was wearing nothing but a golden speedo that he definitely hadn't owned yesterday. He couldn't remember a single moment from the time they had gotten to the cinema, he was just glad he was in Morgana's apartment and not lying somewhere in a ditch.

With a groan he decided to get up and go look for something less golden and less tiny to wear, which was harder than it looked. His clothes from yesterday were nowhere to be seen and he ended up settling for a black lace kimono that Morgana had lying around.

With little steps he made his way to the kitchen hoping for something to wake him up or at least get rid of the nausea he felt swelling up in his chest.

"Oh my, I have to say I never took you much for a fashionista, Artie, but this is just unique.", Morgana greeted him with a wide smirk. Which definitely didn't make his mood any better. "How did you get the idea with the toilet paper? It's absolutely genius." She started laughing, spilling her coffee onto the nightdress she was wearing.

"Can you not? It's too early for this.", Arthur grumbled.

"It's 3 in the afternoon, Arthur. It's not too early for anything."

"It's always too early for this."

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today!" There was nothing that seemed to get Morgana into a better mood than to make fun of Arthur, and as long as she was in a good mood there always seemed to be less injuries surrounding her. So Arthur didn't mind it all too much.

Arthur grabbed a piece of toast off Morgana's plate and started to munch on it.

"Where are my clothes by the way? And why do I look like I just won Mister Gay UK?", he said, his mouth half full.

"Do you seriously have to blackout every time I have a birthday party? I'm starting to feel like you do it on purpose.", Morgana said with her fake pout. "You were so frustrated about your little barman that you decided to vanish with a Rocky after the show, god knows where you guys went. But you returned half an hour later wearing nothing but his speedo and a glittery handbag with popcorn in it. I was actually interested about the juicy details myself, but it seems we'll both be disappointed."

"Okay... and then you let me walk outside in the snow wearing only this?", he gestured to his lower region.

"When I made Kurt give you his coat you were screaming about finally being alive and that nothing could weigh you down or something like that. Then you threw it into a puddle."

"Yep, sounds about right." Arthur leaned against a counter and started to massage his aching temples. "Do you have anything for me to wear? I promised to meet Leon at the gym in an hour."

"Ugh, guys and their muscles. Get a proper hobby, learn crocheting.", Morgana said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm gonna learn crocheting as soon as you do, don't worry."

"I have people who crochet _for_ me, dearest brother. But okay, let me see, I might have something for you."

In the end Arthur went home wearing tight leather trousers, an old Spice Girls t-shirt and a purple fluffy coat. He wasn't going to get his dignity back anytime soon.

* * *

 

The week went by in a slow trickle of meetings and boredom. Working for his father's company had never really been exciting, but the grey January sky and the hot, stuffy rooms made it all that much worse. Only sometimes he found himself thinking about a certain pair of blue eyes. And only while he was playing Skyrim in the evenings. Those elves just had _way_ too prominent cheekbones.

So it was with a great relief, when he finally switched off his computer on Saturday evening. Stretching back in his chair, he let his eyes slide towards the clock on the wall. 10 pm. Too late to call Gwen, who was probably asleep already. But at home there was only a frozen pizza and the tv screen waiting for him and he didn't want to be alone.

Half an hour later he found himself surrounded by fifty shades of pink, sitting in the darkest corner he could find. His feet hadn't really listened to his brain, when it had argued, that it probably wasn't the best idea to go stalk a person he had never even talked to, and had led him straight to the fittingly titled "Pink Panther". Now he was sipping from his pint of beer, trying to act as natural and not stalker-y as possible. He only looked once every minute or so to the bar. His stealth skills were really impressive.

Legolas was looking especially elvish today. He wore a long-sleeved black v-neck that was clinging tightly to his frame and the low lights painted his face's sharp angles in mysterious shadows. Arthur had held the hope that he had been drunk last week and that the barman was in fact looking more like Gollum than an elf, but in this instance he just seemed to be more attracted to him. If that was even possible.

Legolas was currently stocking up on frilly straws, disappearing for a moment under the counter and at that moment Arthur locked eyes with the brown-haired co-worker. She looked at him as if she didn't know whether to be suspicious or amused, but seemed to settle on amused. One of her eyebrows arched as if to say "Really?" and Arthur just shrugged helplessly. She shook her head, but he could see the tiniest smile on her lips, which was all the approval Arthur needed.

* * *

 

He wasn't proud of it, but in the next two weeks Arthur went to the bar almost every day. He couldn't go Thursdays, because of Morgana's meditation crap, and sometimes his friends had the nerve to want to meet him, but he was pretty sure that he had managed to figure Legolas' schedule out.

The barman never seemed to take a break, the only day he didn't work was Wednesday and even then Arthur sometimes saw him sitting next to the bar for an hour or two, often accompanied by some tall guy with fabulous brown hair. The hair was indeed an extreme amount of fabulous and Arthur definitely wasn't jealous. Not at all.

It was a Monday and Arthur was sitting in his office, reviewing the sale report of the last quarter. Camelot Inc. was the country's leading sock manufacturer, an incredibly thrilling business, that just screemed "I-want-to-invest-my-entire-life-into-selling-socks-because-nothing-fulfills-me-more" for Arthur.

Their Christmas collection had been a huge success, leaving their rivals far behind in the competition. Surprisingly, Arthur didn't give a flying fuck about all of it. Socks were a good way to keep your feet warm, but other than that, there wasn't much to them.

His phone started to ring and when he picked it up his secretary told him Gwen was on the line.

"Arthur, I'm worried about you.", she said before he could even say hi.

"Hi, Gwen."

"Don't 'Hi' me, Mister. Where have you been these last couple of weeks? Leon said you barely agreed to your weekly movie night and if I may quote Morgana: 'I don't care if he drowns himslef in a shot glass, but if he dares to disturb my aura once more during meditation, I swear I'll whoop his ass right across the bloody ocean, so that another continent can deal with his sour lemon face.' So, what's up, Arthur?", Gwen sounded calm, but Arthur could still detect the traces of agitation in her voice.

"Sour lemon face?", he asked, because he really didn't know what else to say.

"Don't, Arthur! Tell me what's up! Or even better: You're going to get off work early today and I'm going to cook you dinner and we're going to have a nice little chat. No is not an option.", Gwen insisted.

Arthur sighed, but said: "That sounds lovely, Gwen."

"Great, I'll see you at eight then, don't be late!"

She had hung up before Arthur could protest about the time and he was left listening to the empty beeping of the phone.

* * *

 

Gwen had made lasagna, Arthur's favourite, and she was standing in her yellow kitchen, wearing a baby blue apron and looking extremely adorable with her short curls framing her face. Arthur could have kicked himself, when he felt that little tug in his stomach. It should have been gone by now, it had been a year already.

"Could you get the plates, please?", Gwen smiled at him. "You are _way_ too punctual.

"Sure.", Arthur replied. He wasn't one to argue that she was the one, who had told him not to be late.

Arthur brought the plates to Gwen who scooped generous portions of lasagna onto both of them. The smell of cheese and tomatoes filled Arthur's nose and made his mouth water.

Throughout the whole meal Gwen didn't mention Arthur's weird behaviour even once. Instead she talked about the new young doctor, who had just started working at her hospital, or how she was thinking of cutting her hair even shorter and if purple tips would look good on her.

"Everything looks good on you, Gwen, you know that.", Arthur replied.

After Arthur had taken seconds and they had finished eating, he braced himself for what was about to come. He was playing with his wine glas, when Gwen finally said: "So, spill!"

"There really is nothing to _spill_ , Gwen. I'm not sad or anything, I just had a lot to do, that's all."

"Is it work? Have you decided to finally do something about it?", she asked, her brown eyes showing so much concern, that Arthur had to look away quickly.

"It's not work.", he just said.

"What is it then?"

Arthur ruffled through his hair and then just decided to tell her everything. About how he really wasn't sad, he just couldn't stop thinking about someone he hadn't even locked eyes with. How just sitting and watching him made him feel like nothing he had ever felt before. How he had never been so helpless about approaching someone, because the more evenings he spent there, the more nervous he got about what to say.

Gwen's expression changed from worried to clouded to encouraging while he talked.

"And you know, it's really weird to talk about this with my ex. The one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, who rejected my proposal?", he finished.

"I know... I'm sorry.", Gwen said, biting her lip. "But you yourself just said you never felt like this before. And I thought we both agreed it was better this way."

"I don't know, Gwen.", he sighed. "What do I do?"

"Umm...", Gwen srunched up her nose in the way she always did when she was thinking. "Is he even gay?"

Half an hour later they were sitting in the "Pink Panther".

* * *

 

"I'm not okay with us both staring at him now.", Arthur mentioned after they both had gotten their beers. They must have looked like a pair of derranged hyenas, the way Gwen was grinning and watching the bar.

"He's so pretty though."

"Thank you, Gwen, I know full well how pretty he is."

"Can I have him, if he's straight?"

Arthur glared at her, with a look, he was pretty sure could cut through diamonds or at least very hard cheese.

"Aww, aren't you a cute lil munchkin.", Gwen giggled. "Don't worry, I have my sights set on someone else already."

"The doctor?"

"The doctor, but that's got nothing to do with anything. We have to work out a battle plan.", Gwen rubbed her hands together in some kind of evil anticipation.

"Legolas isn't a warlord, you know? Usually a simple 'Hey, sexy' does the trick.", Arthur said and took both her hands in his, because she was scaring him.

"When has that ever worked?", she was trying to get her hands free again.

Arthur frowned at her.

"Okay, besides myself, when has that ever worked?", she started laughing. "I was drunk, okay? Also you should be the embarassed one, I thought you crowned yourself 'king of the pick-up lines'." Gwen had stopped struggling against Arthur's grip, so he let her go.

"I was young and foolish back then. I'm much wiser now."

"Sure.", Gwen snorted. "The wise man with the butterflies in his tummy."

Arthur couldn't stop the urge to stick out his tongue at her, which was, of course, the exact moment he first locked eyes with Legolas. He slowly retracted his traitorous tongue, but he just couldn't stop staring.

Legolas' eyes were a dark ocean blue and he had stopped in the midst of pouring some sort of alcohol into a cup, so that a clear liquid was dripping down his hand. When the drops reached the barman's sleeve he snapped out of it and started to swear loudly, reaching for a towel to dab on his arm.

Arthur's breath came back in a huge wave. He hadn't noticed that he'd stopped breathing. He had only noticed that he was completely and utterly fucked.


	4. The Mating Habits Of The Common Mountain Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooo this took a bit longer than usual, but i'm gonna try to upload at least once a week from now on!
> 
> a huge thanks to my beta [rainb0wprincess](http://www.archiveofourown.ork/users/rainb0wprincess)
> 
> aaaaand a huge thanks to all of you for leaving so many kudos, you're great!! <3

"Is he staring again?", Merlin asked Freya, who was currently mixing together a 'Flying Kangaroo'.

"Merlin, for the hundredth time, just look yourself!", she answered with a tinge of annoyance and put a bit too much rum into the cocktail.

"I can't, Frey. I'm an embarassment."

"All you did was drip gin all over yourself, that wasn't embarassing, that was sexy. Your swearing, too, by the way, though I'm not sure if he'd be into that. Here you go.", Freya pushed the cocktail over the bar to a customer and turned back to Merlin. "Please behave like a fucking adult for once and just go over there and talk to him?"

Merlin was about to answer, when a deep voice interrupted him: "Talk to whom?"

Gwaine was looking extremely handsome in a grey knitted sweater, his hair hanging into his eyes. He stroked it behind his ear and looked expectantly at Merlin.

"Umm... well...", was all Merlin could say. They weren't in any kind of a commited relationship, but you never knew with Gwaine. He might have absolutely nothing against Merlin picking up other guys. He also might bite the guy's head off and disappear into a cloud of glittery smoke. "Wasn't important. Nice of you to visit." He made his best 'nothing-is-up-why-do-you-ask-do-i-look-guilty' smile.

"I vaguely remember you saying you were getting off early today, because you had too much overtime. Is that right?", Gwaine asked and leaned down on the counter. Merlin's heart skipped a tiny beat.

"Yup, I finish in about twenty minutes.", he managed to croak out.

"That's perfect! I'll have a, what's it called...", Gwaine reached for a menu and flicked through it. "You know what, surprise me."

Merlin made Gwaine an 'Orgasm'. He was making it solely for the taste of it and was totally not hoping for it to be a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Yet, he still couldn't help but sneak a last glance to the table in the farthest corner, just before he exited the bar. The mop of blonde hair was still watching him.

* * *

 

"Why am I here again?", Lancelot asked. "You two are basically undressing eachother with your eyes. This feels so wrong."

Merlin blushed and quickly looked away from Gwaine. He was sitting on the couch next to Lancelot, while Gwaine was spread out on an arm chair. They were currently watching one of the wildlife documentaries, Lancelot always made them endure.

"You can't blame me!", Gwaine said with a huge smirk painted on his face. "I mean you picked 'the mating habits of the common mountain lion'. It's bound to make me horny."

"You just made it so much wronger...", Lancelot had started shaking his head as if to get rid of an image stuck in there.

Merlin just sank a bit deeper into the cushions, not daring to look anyone in the eyes.

"Oh, come one, Lance! You have to admit it's kinda sexy...", Gwaine continued.

"Could we please talk about something else?", Merlin squeaked.

"I thought everyone had a crush on Simba growing up? Or at least Nala? How is that any different?", Gwaine asked and seemed to be amusing himself extraordinarily.

"God, this is just so wrong!", Lancelot let out.

"I mean I know they're cartoon lions with human attributes, but I wouldn't mind having-"

"So. Wrong.", Lancelot threw a pillow at Gwaine which made him shut up. Mainly because he was laughing so hard, he couldn't form any words.

"I can't watch this anymore. Thank you for ruining it, Gwaine.", Lancelot stood up, still shaking his head and took the DVD out of the player.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for ruining lion-sex for you.", Gwaine managed to croak out in between laughing fits.

"I need a beer. Want one?", Lancelot looked at Merlin, who just nodded and followed him into his kitchen. Lancelot's kitchen was strewn over with medical books and the one or the other empty instant noodles packaging. Merlin didn't even dare to look into his fridge anymore for fear of finding a pig's heart or a dead frog in there.

"So how have you been?", Merlin asked, while Lancelot was rummaging in said fridge.

"I'm good, really can't complain. I really like the new hospital.", he said distractedly. "Aha! Got you!" He pulled out a six pack of some off-brand beer and gave one to Merlin. Merlin started opening random drawers in search of a bottle opener, but he only found a scalpel and some weird looking bones, that he didn't have the nerve to ask what - or who - they were from.

"Also, I met someone...", Lancelot continued in a quiet tone, which made Merlin abandon his search and look at him. "She's incredible, but I don't think she's noticed me."

Lancelot was staring at the six-pack of beer with a dreamy look.

"Are you mad? _Everyone_ notices you, Lance!", Merlin replied. He never understood how his tall, handsome, incredibly lovable friend thought so little of himself. "What's her name?"

"Umm, Guineviere, she's a nurse.", Lancelot answered, as if that would explain everything. "We haven't really talked other than for work reasons. So I don't think I've left any impression on her."

"I'm sure that's not true, Lance! But why don't you just try to approach her? You usually aren't that shy." Merlin felt a tiny tingle at the back of his brain, as if he had heard something similar recently. Something said by a brunette in a pink apron. Something about being a fucking adult for once and going over to talk to a certain blonde, blue-eyed 'king'. And really, usually he wasn't shy at all. He just hadn't wanted to meet someone new, since Gwaine, he was completely out of practice. Or he was a fucking coward. Probably the latter.

"Where's my beer?", Gwaine called from the living room and Lancelot gave Merlin a quick smile.

"I think, I might.", he said.

It was when Merlin was lying in Gwaine's bed that night, feeling so close and yet so far from the other, that he thought: _I think, I might, too._

* * *

 

"Stop it, I'm starting to get sea-sick just by looking at you!" Freya said on Tuesday afternoon, just ten minutes before their shift. Merlin had been pacing up and down in the break-room, his nervous hands relentlessly fideting with his pink apron, but he stopped at that.

"What is up with you?", she asked, while she was pulling her hair up into a bun.

"I think I'm gonna catch some fresh air.", he just said and went out the back door. The backyard was mostly for smoking breaks, but since Merlin didn't smoke, he just used it as his very own panic room.

Ten minutes later Merlin hurried to the bar, where Freya was already taking orders from the late afternoon crowd. When she looked at him with a worried frown, he just whispered: "I'm fine, really!", and began working on the cocktails.

He was thankful, that Freya didn't mention his many mistakes in those next couple of hours. And he made many. For example, he had put Tabasco into too many drinks, that definitely weren't a Bloody Mary and he had spilled ice cubes all over the floor when he managed to trip over the open ice-drawer. He just couldn't concentrate.

"Oh look, Merlin. King Arthur's here.", Freya said at around 10 pm. Merlin looked up from where he was cutting lemons, to see the blonde man sitting in his usual corner. Freya patted him on the shoulder and went back to the 'Swimming Pool' she was currently working on.

Merlin gulped and decided to wait a little, as to not appear over-eager.

An hour later the bar had emptied. It was Tuesday, so people usually didn't stay much longer than 11pm, which was perfect for Merlin, since he didn't have to constantly work and could concentrate on way more important things. Like finally approaching Blondie.

With a shaking hand he pulled out a napkin from the huge pile under the bar and started to write:

My name is: _Definitely not a pretty queen_

I'd like to meet you:  
[ ] to drink a cocktail.                          [ ] when i'm sober again  
[x] at the bar ~~in 10 minutes~~. _now_       [ ] in front of the bathroom in 10 minutes.  
[x] _i think we've been playing this game for too long_

When one of the new waiters (Merlin couldn't remember his name yet) stopped at the bar, he entrusted him with the task of being the messenger. The waiter looked at him with a confused expression, but still set off to deliver the napkin. Merlin followed him closely with his eyes, as the man made his way through the mostly empty room. When he had reached Blondie, Merlin had to fight the urge to look away. He was currently channeling all of his flirting-mojo, which wasn't much according to Freya, to make a confident impression.

King Arthur took the napkin with a surprised look on his face, but his expression changed to a half-smile quickly, as he read it. His eyes darted to the bar, with such a piercing look, that Merlin felt a shiver running down his back. But he still managed a smile and a quirked eyebrow in return. Blondie smiled, stood up, grabbed his coat and was standing infront of Merlin, before he could even realize what was happening.

"Sit down?", Merlin offered and was immensely proud, that he didn't stammer.

"Thank you.", King Arthur replied, with a shy smile, that didn't make Merlin swoon at all, and sat down on one of the bar chairs.

"So... what's your real name?", Merlin asked. Being so close to the other was extremely weird. He had been thinking of those icy-blue eyes for weeks now and to have them right infront of his face was a surreal experience. Even though he had to admit, that Blondie looked even more handsome from up close. His disheveled sandy hair was hanging into his eyes and his slightly crooked teeth made him look extremely adorable. _Typical me. Calling a grown man adorable._

"Um... It's Arthur.", Arthur said with a lopsided grin.

"Wait, really?", Merlin started to laugh. "So you are _King_ Arthur afterall?"

" _That_ wasn't my invention!", the other man insisted. "It was Morga- my sister's idea. I'm so sorry for that, by the way!"

"Don't apologize, I thought one of my friends was making fun of me, so it's all good!", Merlin said and reached for a glass to start polishing it. He just had to do _something_ with his hands.

"So, what's _your_ name?", Arthur asked.

"I'm not sure if you're going to believe me.", Merlin answered.

"Well, now I'm intrigued."

"I'm... Merlin."

Arthur looked at him for a moment, saw that Merlin was dead-serious and started to laugh loudly. His laugh was deep and full of warmth and Merlin couldn't help but join in.

"Well, aren't we just meant to be?", Arthur said after he had calmed down.

Merlin blushed and started to polish the glass vehemently.

"Oh...", he heard Arthur say with an unsteady voice. "I just meant-"

"So, what's your story?", Merlin interrupted him. He could just feel the awkwardness getting bigger.

"My story?", Arthur seemed perplexed.

"What do you do, where you're from, what are your dreams and fears, what's your bra size, that kind of stuff...", Merlin explained, wishing he hadn't added the bit about the bra size.

"Well I usually say I'm a 34 B, but really, I'm an A. Just don't tell anyone.", was the reply.

"You... I like you.", Merlin said after a moment of staring at the other man.

"Just because of my bra size? You're such a _pig_."

Merlin snorted and said: "Oh, don't worry, I actually have no clue what those bra sizes mean. You could say you're a 90210 and I'd be impressed."

"Not much experience with bras?"

"Let's just say female breasts are not my forté...", at that Merlin looked directly into Arthur's eyes. He couldn't have been more obvious, even if he'd started to throw glitter around and scream "I'm gay as a tap-dancing tangerine".

Arthur started to smile widely and Merlin set the glass down, content.

"You want to drink something?", he asked. "I'd give you the menu, but I never see you drink anything but beer."

"Beer would be great, yeah.", Arthur answered.

"One of these days you'll have to try our cocktails, though. I'm kind of a cocktail-wiz."

"I think I'll just stick with beer for now."

Merlin shrugged and turned around to get to the tap. As soon as he was standing a couple of metres away from Arthur, he felt a presence at his back.

"Sooooooooo.", Freya said, dragging the vowel out.

"Yes, Freya. I have decided to talk to him. We're going to make little gay babies together and you can be the crazy aunt with the alcohol problem, who comes to visit us once a year, almost drowns our cat and makes our children smoke weed before they're even going to school. I promise.", Merlin said with a sigh.

"Oh, shut up. You finally graduated from awkward-swooning-single high school. I'm just here to hand over your certificate.", she gave him a napkin on which she had drawn a very graphic image of two stickmen. Merlin quickly crumpled it in his hand.

"Hey, I worked hard on that!", Freya muttered, but she started laughing as she walked away.

Merlin quickly tossed the napkin into the trash and went back to Arthur. He placed the beer infront of him.

"Thanks!", the blonde man said. "So, what's her name? I've seen her around a lot."

"Oh, that's Freya. Ignore her, she's way too invested in other peoples' lives.", Merlin felt bad after saying that so he quickly added: "But she's a really good person, so maybe don't ignore her completely?"

"Okay, I'll remember that.", Arthur chuckled. His eyes lit up in amusement and they were so bright Merlin blurted out: "Your eyes are very pretty, by the way."

Stunned silence. Then: "Yours are too, by the way."

Arthur started to smile again and Merlin felt a warmth spreading throughout his body. Suddenly, he was incredibly at ease with the whole situation. All the nervousness was gone.

He leaned down on the counter: "So, what's your story then?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just apologize in Gwaine's name for sexualizing the Lion King.  
> In his defense, he is a 12-year old in the body of a 25-year old. But I'm going to have an earnest word with him about that!


End file.
